Me? I just wanna live a life I'm gonna remember, even if I don't write it down.
I will never eat asparagus.
I will never pick something purple when it could be pink.
I will never prefer sleep to dreaming.
(even if the dreams keep me up all night)
I will never enjoy late night television.
I will never prefer spending time with others over my sisters.
I will never stop making wishes when 11:11 rolls around.
I will never enjoy a city for more than a visit. (Living in one is out of the question - unless it's Paris)
I will never be unafraid of deep water.(but it won’t keep me from surfing)
I will never prefer the woods to the beach.
I will never not be disappointed when the lovers aren't together at the end of a book. (Regardless of the poetics of the story)
I will never stop believing in fairies, mermaids and the power of imagination.
But most of all, the thing I will never, ever do,
I will never stop waiting for you.
xoxo
"Sometimes, she reflected, she dressed for courage, sometimes for success, and sometimes for the consolation of knowing that whatever else went wrong, at least she liked her clothes." -Emma Bull
No one has ever hurt me like he has. Ever. And I hope no one ever does again. But they say your first love is the hardest to get over. You were such a terrible boy in the end but I clung onto you with such a tight grip, begging, and pleading, and breaking myself and my dignity down every time I tearfully sat in front of you repeatedly asking you just to stay, to give us another chance, to just try. But you never did. You looked at me with such pity and out of guilt you would agree to stick around when you knew you shouldn't have. You were cold and heartless, but I learned that the first time you left me. However, when you came back, I erased all of the memories and reminders of how awful you had been only to replace them with the hope that you were different, that you would be different, and that you would love me differently. What's that saying? How could I forget? Fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me. Well you fooled me all right. You put on your beautifully deceitful mask and lured me back in to fill your emptiness, to take the place of everything you couldn't have when I was gone, and to make yourself better. You were so selfish. I hope you grow out of that one day.
But, naive and hopeful, I placed my hand in yours but more importantly, my newfound trust and my healing heart, right in the palm of your dirty hands. History repeated itself and I ended up your fool. Pure insanity; doing the same thing over and over excepting different results.I hate myself for that and if I could go back in time, I'd go right to the day where I received that text message from you. I remember exactly where I was. I was standing in front of my mirror, in my bedroom, putting my hair up, getting ready to go out when my phone vibrated against the dresser. Casually I glanced down expecting it to be a friend, but your seven digit number appeared on my screen. It no longer had your name, it was just a plain old number since I deleted you from my phone, from existence. I would go right to that moment and instead of stopping my world and my progress, I would ignore it and continue on with my life. But what happened, happened and there is no use dwelling on it. I truly believe everything happens for a reason. Some people look at that as a cop out, as the easy way to feel sorry for yourself, but life teaches you lessons. And this was one of mine, I suppose. A painful, devastating lesson.
When you left the second time around, I didn't know what to do with myself. I was broken, hopeless, hurt, cold, scared, I just wanted you back. I would spend my days just sitting in my room, thoughts running through my mind like a busy highway. I would just cry, and cry, and cry everywhere, anywhere. I walked through the grocery, crying, worked out at the gym, crying. I’m telling you everywhere. And just when time had passed and I was finally getting better, something would set me off and I'd scramble for my phone and pour my heart out hoping you'd read my text and something in your stupid brain would click and you'd want me again. And then I would move on again, and then I would relapse and want you again, And then I would get hurt and move on again, and then something would set me off two months later and I'd be back to texting you. I was pathetic, i'll be the first to admit it. But a broken heart makes you do unthinkable things. It makes you crazy. For the longest time, I just felt broken. That's the only way to describe it. I wanted to give up on my heart, on love, on men. I would kiss boys, lead them on, play with their heads...just to get back in some way, even if it wasn't directly to you. I wanted to be heartless. I truly felt like I would never feel for another man the way I felt for you, so why even bother trying? I felt like a zombie. Actually, I just felt nothing at all. You were moving on with your life. You were now a stranger. You were happy without me. And time just slowed down for me.
Some many months ago, I finally got the cue to move on. My heart was finally tired of beating in hopes that you'd come back and that somehow all the pain and mistakes would disappear. My mind was finally tired of replaying memories and haunting me with dreams. My fingers were finally tired of typing out your phone number. My lips were finally tired of craving yours. I was getting there. Slowly but surely, time crawled on, but even crawling is moving forward.
And now, now there is him. I just met him in the past few weeks, but he's the kind of guy that gives me hope. He's not just a guy who wants me for fun, or he has yet to show that anyway. He's kind and smart and cute and funny and he's everything I look for in a guy. I don't know what it is, but he makes me feel like I'm in the fourth grade with the biggest crush. My heart actually feels happy again and he makes me smile. I'm not in love with him, not even close. I don't know what the future holds for us. I don't know if we'll talk for another week, or months, or years. I don't know if we'll end up together in the future or if it's just a crush. I have no idea whatsoever. But this is what I do know. You're not on my mind. I don't get that empty feeling when I think of you. I don't miss you. The sad places that remind me of you, are slowly just becoming places. Your flaws are standing out more than your good traits. And I feel. I feel again. I feel like maybe, I could love someone more than you. I'm not scared to live anymore, i'm not so scared to love.
This new guy- I don't know what will happen with us. I don't need to know right now though, because the fact that I'm feeling at all is beautiful for me. I don't need any sort of elaborate love story to save me, I just need hope.
And that boy, he's hope.
1. Some snow before break is over
Rub two smiles, you get a warm feeling. Rub two warm feelings and presto - you have a kiss. Now what? Don't invite the kiss over and answer the door in your underwear. It'll get suspicious and stare at your toes. Don't water the kiss with whiskey. It'll turn bright pink and explode into a thousand luscious splinters, but in the morning it'll be ashamed and sneak out of your body without saying goodbye, and you'll remember that kiss forever by all the little cuts left on the inside of your mouth. You must nurture the kiss. Turn out the lights. Notice how it illuminates the room. Hold it to your chest and wonder if the sand inside hourglasses comes from a special beach. Place it on the tongue's pillow, then look up the first recorded kiss in an encyclopedia: beneath a Babylonian olive tree in 1200 BC.
-Jeffrey McDaniel
I have another new year's resolution people! I'm still keeping the first one but I guess I'll just make two changes in the big 2012 so this year I hereby stop thinking of boys. Stop thinking that "maybe there’s still someone out there for me", making up scenarios in my head about how I could meet someone, about how it would be to be with someone. I hereby stop falling in love with boys that do in fact exist, but which I give nonexistent fantastic personalities in my mind, without even knowing them. I will now stop doing all of this, thinking and dreaming about all of this. It’s only taking precious time that could be used in some other way. It’s only taking my energy and making me hope for things that cannot, and probably will not happen. These thoughts are like bubbles, hurting me when they break and when I realize that it was always only in my head and never for real. I hereby stop doing this. If I am to experience love, I want it to be for real. And if I’m not, well that sucks, but life goes on, and I like to believe that there’s more to it than falling in love. From now on, I’m going to stop making up all these dreams, and going to focus on the reality instead. Life can be so much more, and you have only one, so why waste it on this pointless dreaming. It may sound harsh, but I’m done with these dreams now. They give me nothing but heartache.
I’m not giving up on love. And I know that dreams can be a wonderful way to escape reality. I just don’t want for them to take over. I don’t want to hold on to these dream-bubbles and make myself fly so high that I won’t survive the fall. Besides,
New year's resolution are such wonderful ideas to me. I know that many people think they are silly and overwhelming and that no one actually sticks with them past January, but I find them refreshing and fun. Last year my resolution was no more clothes shopping, I made it all the way through July and I think that I still surprised people, including myself.
When this year came and I didn't have a resolution yet I decided I wanted a really really good one this year. I thought about committing myself to have no more bread, but I love bread so that was ruled out. Then I thought about making myself do 100 sit-ups a day and remembered that somedays I just do NOT feel like exercising. My thoughts of change all consisted of changing my body. This poor body. The one that I wear with me every single day, the one that keeps me strong and healthy and protects me. Which made me think of a new New Year's resolution which is to learn to love my body, to learn to be kind to it, to not be so judgmental and to truly love it. I am giving myself permission to live without guilt; to feel no shame or self-punishment when it comes to savouring the pleasures life has to lavish me. Isn't that a great way to live?
"Loving your body means: moving around, having fun, knowing your own worth, eating the foods (and portions) that make you feel good, supporting yourself unconditionally, being sweet to yourself when you make mistakes, and knowing deep in your heart that YOU ARE WORTH EVERYTHING YOU CAN IMAGINE FOR YOURSELF."
I am not damning attempts to eat well and exercise - far from it! I believe in fresh fruit and fresh air. Runs down sunset cliffs and ice-skating in winter, ball games on the beach and swimming in the sea all day in the summer. My point is, doesn't that sound a lot more fun than a no-carb diet and weight-lifting in a gym without any natural light whatsoever?
My big sister showed me this article and I think it is fantastic: Last year, in a large city in Australia, a poster featuring a young, thin and tan woman appeared in the window of a gym. It said, “This summer, do you want to be a mermaid or a whale?”
A middle-aged woman, whose physical characteristics did not match those of the woman on the poster, responded publicly to the question posed by the gym
"To Whom It May Concern,
Whales are always surrounded by friends (dolphins, sea lions, curious humans.) They have an active sex life, get pregnant and have adorable baby whales. They have a wonderful time with dolphins stuffing themselves with shrimp. They play and swim in the seas, seeing wonderful places like Patagonia, the Bering Sea and the coral reefs of Polynesia.
Whales are wonderful singers and have even recorded CDs. They are incredible creatures and virtually have no predators other than humans.
They are loved, protected and admired by almost everyone in the world.
Mermaids don’t exist.
If they did exist, they would be lining up outside the offices of Argentinean psychoanalysts due to identity crisis. Fish or human? They don’t have a sex life because they kill men who get close to them, not to mention how could they have sex? Just look at them… where is IT?
Therefore, they don’t have kids either.
The choice is perfectly clear to me: I want to be a whale.
P.S. We are in an age when media puts into our heads the idea that only skinny people are beautiful, but I prefer to enjoy an ice cream with my kids, a good dinner with a man who makes me shiver, and a piece of chocolate with my friends.
With time, we gain weight because we accumulate so much information and wisdom in our heads that when there is no more room, it distributes out to the rest of our bodies. So we aren’t heavy, we are enormously cultured, educated and happy."
Beginning today, when I look at my butt in the mirror I will think, “Good grief, look how smart I am!” Yes this is my new year's resolution.
